


Doctor Wilson and the Return of the Forest Nymphs.

by Triple_Gemini



Category: House M.D.
Genre: But be not afraid, Crack, Feral Pleasures, Gen, Have No Idea How To Tag This, I promise you'll enjoy this., One Shot, S6E15, poor Cuddy, the forest nymphs will aid me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 21:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4278168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triple_Gemini/pseuds/Triple_Gemini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House remains an ass and Feral Pleasures will be the death of one, James Wilson</p><p>Or, if you want a proper summary with effort and stuff:</p><p>Looking back on it, he really shouldn't of been so naïve. The chance that House had just decided to drop something as embarrassing as Feral Pleasures was next to nothing, so here he was, dressed like some woodland prostitute in the middle of a hospital, thinking that: yeah, maybe he deserved this special kind of hell. But that didn't mean that House wasn't going down with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor Wilson and the Return of the Forest Nymphs.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Davethederangedgrapefruit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davethederangedgrapefruit/gifts).



> Ok this is my first ever fic of this fandom. I'm quite proud of myself because I wrote this in a personal best time of around two hours (usually it'd of taken me days) 
> 
> Ok, my head hurts and my fingers ache. So I'm gonna post this and leave you to enjoy the carnage. Have fun.

James Wilson had been blissfully, completely and utterly under the impression that the whole "Feral Pleasures" thing had been dropped. It'd been 2 months since House had discovered the damn video. 1 month, 1 week and three days since someone had last mentioned Forest Nymphs or his abilities to please women. Jim was about as content as he could be living with a bordering-on-aspergic egomaniac with the self control and morals of a three year old.

 

He shouldn't of been so credulous.

Really, he blamed himself. He'd known the man 12 years, what'd he expect? But a large part of him was so pleased to see House actually being mildly reasonable, he'd failed to deduce any ulterior motives.

 

He should've suspected something was off the moment he walked into that examination room, but in his naive and unsuspecting torpor, he'd ignored the fact the woman sitting on the examination table looked vaguely familiar. Or failed to piece together the fact she was wearing a little too much makeup and a _very_ low cut top, combined with the tiny-bit-too-sunny smile for someone who could of been about to be diagnosed with cancer.

He'd ploughed through the examination, concluded that there was nothing actually wrong with the woman and she was probably just a hypochondriac like 60% of his patients were. He didn't even bat an eyelash when House walked in halfway through and offered him a coffee, rambling on about his 'idiot of a patient'.

He'd absentmindedly taken a sip whilst half listening to what the older man was saying, noting that the woman was grinning like a cat all of a sudden. _That_  had made him suspicious. He remembered her now. He'd walked in on her giving House a massage one evening, neither of them had the decency to look even a little embarrassed, despite their scandalous positions, but hey, Jim was used to it.

He peered into his coffee suspiciously, feeling his eyelids droop a little. He spun to face House, his balance wavering precariously.

"You absolute-" Jim'd slurred, and had just enough lucidity to feel the woman plucking his coffee cup from his grasp before he fell to an unmitigated heap on the floor. Above him House grimaced, though even clinging onto his last moments of consciousness, Jim could tell that grimace was mostly genuine, as if House had intended to catch him but hadn't quite managed it.

Bastard.

(GOTAKEALONGWALKOFFASHORTPIER, HOUSE)

 

He woke up groggily, his eyes blinking open even as the rest of his body didn't seem to be able to move. His lifted his hand to his face, watching the fuzzy image starting to clear and wincing at the throbbing pain at the back of his head. His body was an odd combination of both really cold and really hot, he noted as he tried to shift into a more comfortable position. Difficult, given he could barely move.

He was in an exam room, that was for sure, the ceiling painted an unassuming shade of grey. He was laying on the table, but why was it so-

 _House_.

He bolted upright, wincing and the skin of his bare legs peeled away from the faux leather upholstery and took a moment to take in his attire.

He was wearing a murky olive green colour robe, with a thick dark belt around the middle. No shoes -he noted with distaste-, his chest was exposed, not to mention that robe was really way too short. He groaned, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands and hoping that this was all a bad dream. He peered beneath them briefly, and yup, he was still dressed like a woodland prostitute.

He hadn't even taken into account the deer antlers that had been placed on his head, too busy frantically looking for his doctors scrubs or even a lab coat to try and cover this up with. No such luck, the bastard must've taken them with him.

His mind already races at the possibilities of getting House back for this, but nothing came to mind. He decided he'll get his vengeance _after_  he's murdered the man, Hypocratic Oath be damned.

He sighed, resigned himself to his fate (it was either this or waiting until the hospital closes and trying to break out) and pushed the door opening, immediately spotting House and his co conspirator watching him from the balcony, ready and waiting with a camera. House smiled, a somewhat evil thing, pressed the shutter and waved.

"HHOOOOUUUSSSEE!" Wilson shouted, drawing attention to himself in the process. The nurses who already knew about his participation in Feral Pleasures were laughing to themselves. A few of the patients either looked bemused or worried and Cuddy, the poor soul, looked on in resigned disapproval.

Jim turned back to look up at House, giving him his best glare before taking off across the reception, and towards the stairs. House's eyes widened before limping as fast as he could into the security of his office.

He watched as Wilson came to a stop outside his door, banging his fists against the glass and his face red with rage.

"Fear not, Wilson" House said with a neutral expression from the safety of his office. "The nymphs told me they think your ass looks great in that robe."

**Author's Note:**

> For DaveTheDerangedGrapefruit because I blame this entirely on her. Besides, the title is all her doing.


End file.
